Tempted by love

Chapter 6

To reader: **I hope you enjoy this book as I have had writing it*

Chapter 6

“Ari? Ari, I didn’t…I never meant…,” Mason rambled without being able to apologise.

His voice shouldn’t have been so familiar to me, as if I’d known the sound of it all my life rather than for just the square amount of weeks we had been encompassed with.

I was coughing on the air that I was finally allowed to breath. He looked apologetic, guilty even. I was beginning to think he didn’t know how to say ‘I’m sorry”. The words never came as I waited for them.

His eyes narrowed in on where they had clutched my neck in a painful grip. He could see the red marks forming from where he let go. I could tell by the hurt and repentant look on his face that Mason felt really bad for hurting me. I was only thankful that he no longer was in a state of panic from his nightmare and was now a lot calmer than before. 

Mason leaned back against the wooden headboard. He was trying to relax himself, but his knuckles were turning white from the tighten pressure of his curled fist. I pressed my fingers to the spot on my neck where I knew the bruises would mark the place when morning came. Mason ran his hand through his hair in frustration when he saw me touch my neck.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Concern flicked in the depths of his dark eyes.      

I nodded my head slowly.

I noticed that his breathing was irregular again. I frowned, tilting my head to the side. I raised myself on my knees that were pressed into the mattress next to him where there was more space on the bed. I reached out with the back of my hand to feel his temperature. He allowed me to touch his skin with the back of my hand. Mason let go of a deep sigh. I couldn’t understand how he was burning a fever. He was absolutely fine the past few days.

“You burning up,” I stated.

The silence grew thick between us. And Mason was staring at me curiously, that same, familiar edge of frustration even more distinct now in his dark brown eyes.

I stared back, surprised, expecting him to look quickly away. But instead he continued to gaze with probing intensity into my eyes. There was no question of me looking away. My hands started to shake.                       

I couldn’t believe the rush of emotion pulsing through me — just because he’d happened to look at me for the first time in a half-dozen weeks. I couldn’t allow him to have this level of influence over me. It was pathetic. More than pathetic, it was unhealthy.

But nevertheless, my expression was filled with concern when I looked at him. I couldn’t ignore the burning heat under his skin. Mason remained drained. He didn’t say anything. I’m sure he could see how quickly apprehensive I grew as the seconds passed by.                                                           

I was a failure and now, I felt bad as our emotions reversed. I had been ignorant to his health these past few days ever since he told me to stay away from him. It was something I shouldn’t have done and now, he was suffering because I had failed to take care of his wellbeing, something my father had made my responsibility to take care of before he left. I was an irresponsible mess. I kept failing at the things my father trusted me to do. I couldn’t even take care of the one thing he hoped and knew would be taken care of in my hands –Mason Walsh. The tears in my eyes thickened and I couldn’t bring myself to look the soldier in the eye anymore. 

I closed my eyes and inhaled through my nose.   

“I was supposed to take care of you,” I whispered, gravely, keeping my eyes closed. “My father expected me to and …and…and, I failed. I’m sorry. I really am, Mason.” My voice saturated with sorrow, shaking at the last bit.

I opened my eyes. His face was very serious. My tone obviously caught him off guard.

Mason scowled at it with irritation as he leaned forward slightly. We were only inches apart from each other. He lifted a lock of my blonde hair. My eyes were trailing over each and every one of his movements with curiosity, deep set fascination. Delicately he ran his thumb over the silkiness smooth touch of it before tucking it back into place.

“No,” Mason murmured to me as he dropped his hand next to my knee, his voice was unusually soft – velvet, muted. “You not to blame, especially not over me. I am not your responsibility.” When the look of despair failed to slip off my face, he sighed out angrily and caught my chin with the tip of his finger and the pad of his thumb when I tried to look away. My palms tingled.“I owe you and your father too much to become that burden. Ari, are you listening to me? Don’t take this on yourself. I’m not yours to look after.”

I tried scrambled of the bed, but stopped me.

“I’ll go get you something for your fever. Maybe it would help if you took off your shirt. No – No, it would be better if you take a shower, it will help your burning temperature. Oh my gosh, I’m so scared. This shouldn’t be happening, Mason. You were just fine in the afternoon.” I was rambling out of nervousness as anxiety consumed me. I was completely worried over him. Then I had to look down, to reassemble my now – tangled thoughts.  

His eyes burned into mine with amazed irritation. I hadn’t heeded to anything he had said to me before I went off on a tangent. He wanted me to take it back and realize what I was doing. “Stop it, Ari, I told you I am not your responsibility. You don’t need to take care of me and you shouldn’t worry about my health. It is my problem. You and your father have done enough already,” he said, his voice low and cold. Anger flashed in his tawny eyes. His lips pressed into a hard line, all signs of softness gone.

 I shook my head stubbornly. “I’m not doing it for you,” I gasped, “if there is one thing that ever existed in this world that I wanted more than anything. It would be my father’s approval – to make him proud of having me as a daughter. He never thought I was capable of the strength a son would give him. I intend to prove him wrong. He entrusted me to look after you, I plan on doing exactly that whether you want it or not. I can’t let you feel this way, Mason, I have to look after you, please?”  

“It seemed you’ve already decided on what you want to do. Why should I stop you then?” he stated in a grim voice. “Just realize that I will never be okay with this choice of yours. It seems you are delusional to the world that your father belongs in. Whatever feelings and choices he harbored onto you was for your own good. Yet, you undermine them with being not enough for you. Right now, our world is falling and he is trying to save it. He has no expectations from you – not even taking care of me. I’m just a soldier in his war. Nothing more or nothing less. It wouldn’t matter if I died. I’d give my life up to the cause.” 

He didn’t want to be saved by my hand. But then I realized that I wanted to save him. I needed to save him despite his objections to my hand of help. I was going to help him even though he protested it. It’s a human thing to do – something my father would have wanted me to see in such a volatile situation.  

I wasn’t giving up.

And, this wasn’t just about him or my father. This was more. This was about me too. About me proving my worth to the world no matter how small the contribution was. This, in the room, was one of the world’s best warriors – someone would willingly take the risk of his own life to save the worlds innocents – I had to save him even if he didn’t want it. When I realized he had a fever, it was like taking a cold shower and knowing how important it was to stay on your feet. To keep on walking that lonely path, to keep treading on the thorns beneath your feet so that at the end of the road you could look back and know without regrets that you had done it right and proper. 

I wanted him to realize that too. 

I got off the bed and stalked angrily to the door. Before I left, I took one last glance at him. Mason’s eyes were begging me to leave him alone. They looked pleadingly desperate and cold at the same time. His jaw clenched tight and his knuckles had turned white. I couldn’t help but smile politely. I could have cowered away at his fierce request but I didn’t. I could have given into his demand to not help him, but I wouldn’t. So I smiled instead.  

I smiled in triumph when he sighed in defeat.    

I could tell he didn’t like to be overpowered by me. Right now, he was sure to be having a pounding headache and was too weak to argue against me. For one thing was clear, he had shown me weakness. Something he would take utter care of to never to do again.